


turn off the TV and maybe I'll fool you

by ratbrain



Series: "I'm claiming Jon Sims for the neurodivergents" [4]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Has ADHD, Set in Episodes 159-160 | Scottish Safehouse Period (The Magnus Archives)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:27:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28175388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratbrain/pseuds/ratbrain
Summary: Jon has sensory overload and tries to hide it from Martin.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: "I'm claiming Jon Sims for the neurodivergents" [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2020882
Comments: 8
Kudos: 171





	turn off the TV and maybe I'll fool you

**Author's Note:**

> content warnings!!  
> \- internalized ableism   
> \- ableism from parental figures  
> \- sensory overload   
> (as always, if I miss any content warnings pls let me know in the comments)

It was a beautiful day in the Scottish safehouse. 

At least, it had started out as one. Jon, however, was having quite a shitty time. 

_ It’s not even like you have anything to be freaking out over,  _ he told himself. He also told himself that he was only saying these things to try and be logical, to try and calm himself down from the hell he had worked himself into. But he knew that doing this only made him feel worse. Like he somehow wasn’t valid in his own feelings. 

But seriously though, what was he so worked up over? The house was quiet, but it felt as though every little sound was amplified, and everything that touched him felt  _ wrong.  _ His short sleeved shirt felt like it was choking his entire upper half, and as he stood up to go upstairs and change, Martin came downstairs into the living room. 

“Hey Jon,” he said casually, a paperback book tucked under his arm, and had Jon not been in sensory hell he probably would have noted how blissfully domestic he looked, “what’re you up to?”

Fuck. Okay, he thought, he could do this. He could play it cool in front of Martin and act like nothing was wrong because nothing was wrong. After all, there was no sense in worrying him when there was nothing to even worry over, right? He could do this. 

“Oh, you know, not much,” he said, the words feeling like knives against his ears. 

Martin chuckled softly (ow) “Yeah. Hey, I think that documentary you were talking about last night should be on soon. You know, that one about the formation of quasars? Why don’t we watch that?”

The idea of sitting and listening to a documentary when he was like this nearly made Jon weep, but he didn’t want to scare Martin by suddenly needing to go upstairs. No, no he could do this because everything was fine and he was fine and there was nothing-

“Jon? Everything alright?”

Jon looked up to realize that he had been staring at the floor and awkwardly fiddling with the hem of his shirt. More importantly, he still hadn’t responded to Martin’s question. Yeah, he was doing a great job, he thought. 

“Oh, sorry, yes that sounds lovely,” he said quickly, hoping that would make up for everything. 

Martin seemed a slight bit concerned, but didn’t say anything else as he turned on the small television and sat down on the couch next to Jon. 

Five minutes later, and Jon was in complete and utter hell. The TV wasn’t even set to a loud volume, but every little noise it was making just seemed to pass right through his ears and bounce around in his head. It hurt, and he wanted to cover his ears and groan so he could drown it out, but Martin was pressed up against his side and he was still determined not to scare him. 

“That’s odd,” Martin said, and Jon tried not to cringe as he asked what he meant. 

“That thing the narrator just said ab-” Martin began, but that was as far as he got before something inside of Jon broke. 

Without thinking, he brought his knees up to his chest and buried his face in them. He covered his ears with the heels of his palms and used his fingers to grab the hairs at the back of his neck and pull on them. He knew Martin was trying to talk to him, probably trying to figure out what was wrong ( _ weird he thinks you’re weird such a fucking freak no he wouldn’t think that he’s sweet and he wouldn’t do that to me no of course he would anyone would you fucking weirdo)  _ but he wasn’t listening. 

He stood up and ran upstairs into the bedroom, closing and locking the door behind him. He buried himself under the covers and shoved his face into the pillow, squeezing his eyes tight in a sad attempt to block everything out. It didn’t work, but it was far better than the alternative. 

He didn’t know how much time had passed. He probably could know if he wanted to, but the dull headache left over from that experience meant he didn’t want to even think about anything unless it was absolutely necessary. Things had slowly faded, the noises and sensations that had attacked his body dulled down again to their normal, just manageable, status. 

He sighed as he pulled the blankets off himself and stared up at the ceiling. What was he going to tell Martin? He’d tried so hard to keep everything under control, but he’d gone and messed it all up. Poor Martin, he could only imagine how terrifying he must have looked, thrashing about over nothing. 

His questions of how he was going to tell Martin didn’t stay very long, because soon there was a knock at the door. 

“Jon?” Martin asked, his voice soft, “are you alright in there?”

Jon sighed again, getting up to unlock the door. After everything he’d put Martin through, it was only fair that he at least try not to shut him out this time. 

Martin stood on the other side of the door, smiling at Jon with both happiness and concern. 

“I just put the kettle on downstairs, should be ready soon,” he said, “I can bring your tea up here, if you'd like,” he smiled, and Jon did too. How was Martin being so nice to him after all of this? He thought of all the other people he’d done...that...in front of. They had meant well, sure, but rightly they were terrified. It just wasn’t a feeling you could hide from someone very well, even when you tried to cover it up with concern. Or they were his grandmother, who had simply told him there was nothing to be freaking out over and that if he didn’t calm the hell down she’d call an ambulance to send him to a psych ward. Yeah, that one had been particularly influential in his life. 

‘No, no I’m alright,” he said, awkwardly fixing his hair where both the blankets and his own hands had messed it up. 

“Are you sure? That looked...intense,” Martin said, trying to not press too hard on the subject, just merely wanting to understand. 

Jon sighed, “No more intense than any other time it’s happened," he said. 

“Oh, so this is a thing that’s happened before?” Martin asked, now sounding more curious than anything. 

“Yeah, it’s not too frequent that it gets that bad, but you know. Especially since I had to stop taking my medication when we got out here and-”

“Oh wait, so that was an adhd thing?” Martin asked. 

“Um, yes?” Jon said, not really sure how that could be relevant. 

Martin breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, that’s good to know. I was worried it was something to do with the Eye. I mean, not-not that I’m saying it’s a good thing! It’s just, ah, better than the alternative I suppose?”

Jon laughed at that. “Yes Martin, I can have sensory issues that  _ aren’t  _ fueled by supernatural interference.”

They both looked at each other for a few seconds before laughing. 

“So, are you feeling any better now?” Martin asked. 

“I have a headache, but I can deal with it," Jon shrugged. 

“Well, I think the kettle’s almost ready, so why don’t you sit with me and we can have some tea?”

Jon smiled, “I’d love to.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> "Everyone wants to be mentally ill until they get sensory overload in the Covid testing line"  
> \- me, last night before writing this fic


End file.
